


Richie Tozier: Out of the Dumpster

by apple_solutely



Series: Maturin Estate [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Buffy the Vampire Slayer References, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, I Tried, M/M, Mentioned Losers Club (IT), Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier's Stand Up Act, The Losers Club Love Each Other (IT), Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_solutely/pseuds/apple_solutely
Summary: Richie Tozier: Out of the Dumpster2017 16+ 33mStarring: Richie TozierGenres: Stand-up Comedy, ComediesThis movie is: Funny, WittyAfter a year of hiatus, Richie Tozier finally comes back, brand new, with a fresh new take alongside a Netflix deal.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Maturin Estate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797088
Comments: 14
Kudos: 102





	Richie Tozier: Out of the Dumpster

**Author's Note:**

> This will be part of a collection of stand-up comedy sketches throughout the years.  
> Side note: I'm really not funny but I tried.

HELLOOOO CHICAGO!!! 

Yeahhh, it’s a real riot in here tonight huh? Yeah, yeah, settle down. I know my partner probably paid you all to be here because he might be a pissed off little turd who thinks I’m not funny but like hell will he make me feel low about myself. 

No? Well then it’s either that or you guys are all here to see me fuck up. That’s what this is all about isn’t it? About me firing my manager, coming out, writing my own material— _fuck yeah!_ —and every single insane thing you’ve heard online up till now…

Raise your hand if you’ve seen _Pitch Perfect_? Good, good… You know that first scene in which the lady with a stick up her ass completely chokes on stage and pukes all over the front row? 

Yeah. _I’m that bitch._

It was downright disgusting to see in the movie and it’s downright disgusting to see myself repeatedly on social media. My videos on youtube. In fact there's a bunch of different versions of it online. From, left, right, up and down.—and they’re all trending. So my manager comes up to me, all macho and proud. He pats me on the back—I know, I know! As if I’d gotten a good grade on a maths test. 

So just wait for a second here….You’re telling me. I get a life-changing phone call before my set and experience a blender of emotions, breakdown in front of college frat boys—and you tell me this is _good for publicity?_

God, he wishes that were planned— _I_ wish it were because—two million views is no joke. Hell, I should be paying CaptainMoon_69 for doing a better job than my publicist—who I pay a hefty amount of money for, by the way. And I don’t know who needs to hear this, but comedians? They don’t have money growing on trees—and neither do I shit money. The only thing coming out of me are shitty jokes. But that’s the closest it gets. 

So I’m backstage. I get a call and it’s from a number I don’t recognize and that should be a warning bell for most. I pick up, like the dumb-fuck I am and it’s my childhood friend Mike. And he tells me to come home to Derry. 

No cheers, please. Derry is a shit-hole. A small cluster-fuck of a town in Maine. Aka, crime central. Aka, capital of homophobia and racism, and sexist mindsets—you get the point. Yada, yada. Yeah, some of you have been listening to Mike and Bill’s podcasts!

Now, here’s where it all goes crazier than that road trip I took the summer before college, which included male strippers and a stranded cow—but settle down, settle down! Before you all get excited to hear _that_ story, I should warn you that it’s not that kind of show. 

My friend Mike calls me—and mind you that half a second ago, I didn’t remember who he was at all. My entire childhood comes rushing back. And guys. Derry was so shitty that I repressed my entire childhood. Like a minute ago, I didn’t even know I had friends? That people liked me—well, actually...they tolerated me but it’s out of love. It all is. But, fuck. I remember everything, guys. Everything. 

Let’s get to the point. And let’s get one thing straight: I’m not. 

I know, I know. That was terrible and you didn’t pay however much to sit here and listen to me make jokes that twelve-year-olds make. _Ha!_ Jokes on you! You think I aged? You see these wrinkles? And this dad bod? It’s all an elaborate illusion. I’m secretly twelve and that’s the real dump. That’s the real tea as the kids call it. 

God, I’m so old. 

And also terrible at staying on track. My ADHD really jumped out, huh? Don’t worry, I’m getting there. 

So, I’m gay. Yeah. Yup. Yippee. Go, gays. 

This is actually the first time I’ve said it out loud on stage. Sure I came out on twitter months ago and already got the response, the love, and the brutal comments from some thirteen-year-old, who has nothing better to do, and gets his rocks off on making people cry. Yeah. Seen a lot of those people in my life. That one's a doozy. And frankly, only for the ears of my therapist—who has a field day with me. For sure. 

But my mother. Oh, my dear madre. What can I say about her except that she is an old hag who’s much too perceptive. Seriously. I must have been around nine and I’ve got these fears—you know, the ones children always get because they sneak into R-rated horror movies with their other loser friends? Yeah, those. And on this one particular night, I can’t sleep, so I go wake my mother up and I tell her, “Mom, there’s something in my closet”. And I kid you not, she rubs the crust out of her eyes, blinks blearily at me and mumbles, “You mean, besides yourself?” 

Guys. I was floored. I might’ve passed out. I can’t remember. My mom’s a funny lady.

But here’s the truth behind my biggest fears. It isn’t the dark. Or some scary monster, or some sloppy clown. No. It’s the fear of being attracted to a penis. 

I know. You’re all like: Shit, Tozier really had a midlife crisis didn’t he? 

And the answer is: yes. Last year was a wake-up call. Literally. And metaphorically. It came in many shapes and sizes—which is perfectly fine. It’s alright if it’s small. Truly. Sometimes, small is exactly what you need. What? Jeez, guys, get your minds out of the trash.

But, no. Shit truly hit the fan. It was like diarrhea on crack!

I reconnect with my childhood friends. My childhood friends—who have all, by the way, gotten hotter. Like what the fuck happened to me? Why do I look like Dobby the house-elf? Why am I the creature from the Black Lagoon? I went into gay panic seeing them in person. My brain just went: _Error, error! Can not compute!_ So unfair. 

I realize I’m gay. I realize I’m gay and in love with my best friend. And then I see this best friend standing in front of me in some Chinese restaurant and I do what I do best when I feel like climbing back into the closet: I make ‘your mom’ jokes. _Specifically_ about the love of my life’s mother. Yeah, I was that kid. Still am. It’s literally my entire brand. Honestly, my friends wouldn’t have to work a day in their lives if they were paid every time I made a ‘your mom’ joke. 

So I make a complete ass of myself, we swim around in piss and shit, have a house collapse on us, two of my friends nearly die. My soulmate winds up in the hospital, and the first thing he tells me when he wakes up is to call his wife. 

Oh. Did I forget to mention he was married? Yeah...yeah. I know. Brutal right? Imagine how that must’ve felt to me! 

But don’t fret! That little rascal only called her to tell her he’s going to file for a divorce. That’s the first thing he wanted to do after being kissed by death. And me, being an absolute dope for him, ask him to come with me to California so that I can take care of his injuries while we get our life back together. And he agrees. Just like that. Like the bravest motherfucker I have ever seen. 

And he owns that title. Motherfucker. Because here’s a secret. I stole the ‘your mom’ joke brand from him. Yup, that’s right. Eddie is my soulmate because he’s just as lame as me. I love it. 

You guys, I’m really not funny. I wish I were. And my friends know that, that’s why they’re all here in the front row, in their privileged rented spots. All completely free. Those assholes, right? Those lucky bastards. They may be losers but they’re smart. 

One thing you should know about my friends and I. Let me set the scene and the general idea for how lame we were and still are. Except Beverly and Mike. They’re the coolest. Always have, always will be. 

I’ve mentioned we were chased around by these bullies that were a couple of years older than us, yes? The ‘leader’ of those bullies is named Henry, by the way—and I can see that those podcast listeners are exceptionally quiet and for good reason. But let’s not get into that. They bully us. Because I don’t know when to shut up, because Eddie is a mommy’s boy who carries around a fanny back—which, um? Played a part in my gay awakening. Also those red shorts! _God, yes._

Mike is black, Ben was overweight, Stan’s a Jew and Bill has a stutter and Beverly because half the town thought she slept around. Now, me I understand. I mean, have you seen me? I’m a class-A loser. But the rest? They’ve always been much better than I am. 

Do you all remember the show _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_? Okay, _thank you_. I thought my demographic consisted of teens but now I know I’m not the only old fuck in this room. 

So, there’s Buffy, she’s the badass slayer, the one who has to make all the tough decisions. There’s Willow, who’s smart, good with computers, a powerful lesbian and a witch—oh, I’m sorry, did I spoil the show for you? Well _fuck you!_ It came out like a lifetime ago. Do yourself a favor and leave this train wreck to go binge-watch Buffy! Go! 

And then we have Giles, the nerdy librarian who, surprise, surprise, is a complete badass too. We have Angel and Spike, sexy vampires. I’d let them bite me anytime like yes, please, daddy! Anya is a demon, and we have Tara, who’s a witch. 

And then there’s Xander. Oh, Xander. 

Guys, if my friend Mike is Giles, the sexy librarian, then I’m Xander, the useless one in the group. The Zeppo, because A, we have the same horrible sense of clothing style, consisting of open-buttoned tees that a clown threw up on. B, we’re a hot mess, and C, we were both so deeply closeted, that Joss Whedon decided to erase the notion of making Xander gay after dropping subtext, and instead, has Willow be gay. Which I’m all for. Because of character development. 

But. _But!_ Xander isn’t useless. He’s the heart of the group in some ways, isn’t he? And I’m not—I’m definitely not hinting I’m the heart of our friend group because I’m the biggest pain in their asses. Ben is the heart. Sweet, handsome Ben. Mike is the soul, Beverly is the fist because she’s a real bruiser, Bill is the leader—the nervous system, maybe. Stan is the brain. Eddie’s the legs that keep us rooted while me? I’m the mouth. The voice of truth because I have absolutely no filter.

Ironic, isn’t it? That I spent my entire life lying about myself, and now I call myself a truther? Well, I’m not a liar. Sure, I lie about small stuff like fucking girls. But that’s the only lie I’ve ever told in my life. 

I’m gay. Like super fucking gay. And for Eddie. Always have been. 

You’d think I’m exaggerating, but Stan became friends with Bill who’s best friends with Eddie, and I still remember that day I met him. We were six. And the second I saw his Bambi eyes, and heard him talk about dirt and AIDS, I was a goner. Eddie’s the prettiest and cutest boy I have ever laid eyes on. And he hates it still whenever I call him cute. Now it’s different. He may have these moments that make me want to pocket him away. But it’s worse than that. He’s sexy! Like porn-star sexy. He has abs! And I lick them every night before going to sleep because _Hallelujah!_ They deserve it. He deserves it.

You think it was bad as kids, because I’d go around following him like some dog, tongue out and tail wagging. And that’s embarrassing enough without Stan having to tell me to keep it in my pants every time I looked at Eddie. Oh and yeah, Stan knew apparently too. He and my mom have this special pact.

I’d do anything to get Eddie’s attention and so would he with me. We’re utterly whipped for one another—so whipped, we’d probably kill someone for each other. Or better yet, Eddie could kill me and I’d thank him. He’d breathe and I’d say, “Where do you want me?”

Complete submission. Which’ll tell you wonders about our sex-life. But alas, I think I should shut up before Eddie actually _does_ kill me. He may have given me approval before allowing me to perform this on-stage but the second I go off-script, he’ll punish me—and not in the super fun, sexy way either. Which is a bummer for me…  
And oh yeah, forget NDA, guys. Eddie _is_ the fucking NDA. 

He’s also in the front row, trying not to laugh because he gives me shit for my trashy jokes but then always ends up laughing and on rare occasions, tells me sincerely that I’m the funniest guy he knows. So, if you see a guy of average height, yelling at some manager, looking like a spaghetti bowl at a five-star restaurant, please tell him, ‘Hi’ because if I haven’t mentioned it enough, I’m fucking in love with him. He’s the one. 

Thank you, Chicago, for being so patient with me. You’ve been a great audience. Good night and hold your dear ones close for me!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you all think! We love constructive criticism!  
> 


End file.
